


G is for glasses and grief

by sg_wonderland



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alphabet Soup Challenge, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 03:16:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15427833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_wonderland/pseuds/sg_wonderland
Summary: After the Gamekeeper.





	G is for glasses and grief

**Author's Note:**

> Fignewton Alphabet Soup - Daniel edition

I have my suspicions about the glasses. That he doesn’t need them nearly as much as he claims he does. At least not for the vision thing.

They’re his shield to keep folks from seeing the real Daniel. Unfortunately for him, we’ve all seen the real Daniel. I personally have seen him pissed beyond words, wounded beyond comfort, excited beyond trying to act aloof.

His eyes are far too expressive for him to fool anyone but he doesn’t know that yet. He thinks he’s got us fooled and we indulge him enough to act like it’s working. I watch him avidly while he adds to this particular debrief. Carter was more upset than I’ve ever seen her when she described the scene from Daniel’s past. He, on the other hand, schooled his voice to a rigid tone, kept his hands firmly planted on the table at all times to prevent the inevitable twirling. But the eyes give him away. This is a hurt far beyond anything I’ve yet to see. And that’s scary.

So I know I have to get him to open up, talk about it. Yeah, I know, I don’t take my own advice, I’ve got a lot of nerve to talk and I’m offensive and hypocritical. But what I don’t want for Daniel is to follow my lead in this particular area. 

So I wait for him, plotting the perfect ambush in the gear-up room. I wait until he’s showered and changed before I stroll in and tell him that since we’ve got a couple of days downtime, I want him to come home with me and get out of the mountain.

“Oh, Jack,” his eyes slide away from my sincere ones. “I have a lot of stuff…”

“That needs to be done. Yeah, I know. But you need to get some rest, breathe some real air, eat some real food. Things I guarantee you’re not going to accomplish here. Get anything you need from your office. Providing,” I hold up one finger, “providing it fits in one pack. And that it’s not classified. I’m not kidding, Daniel.” I put on my official O’Neill voice. “I’ll be by to pick you up in twenty minutes and I expect to see you ready to go.” I shove his reluctant ass out the door, knowing he’ll be ready. He won’t be happy, but he’ll be ready.

*

There is something more than faintly awful about taking such ruthless advantage of him. But, dammit, he needs a release. He needs to scream or kick things or bawl his head off. Fraiser thinks he needs counseling. I think Daniel and I are in agreement that’s the worst suggestion we’ve ever heard. The mention of the word sent shivers up my spine and horror into his eyes. 

Hence, my haste in removing him from her immediate area. I’ve fed him or tried to, let him lounge in the backyard most of the afternoon, now comes the talking part. I contemplate liquor, but the doc has already put the kibosh on that. No alcohol until she’s satisfied our systems aren’t compromised by those chairs into which the gamekeeper strapped us. 

However, I do have a secret weapon. Chocolate. He’s worse than any woman I’ve ever known in his love of chocolate. After we rescued him from Abydos, he inhaled every piece of chocolate cake in the mess and they’re only remotely edible at the best of times.

Buy him a Hershey bar and he’ll follow you anywhere. So I take a Hershey bar from the fridge, big block, no almonds, and wander down to the backyard where he’s sprawled with a book that-gasp-looks like a paperback.

I drop the bar in front of him and he looks up, startled. “Eat. You barely touched dinner.”

“Not hungry.” He mutters, even though his hand is reaching automatically for the chocolate.

“Dessert then.” I sit beside him.

“Oh, you cooked!” He grins suddenly and unwraps the candy and takes a huge bite.

“Missed that, did you?” I just hope he doesn’t devour chocolate in front of the Marines because if he does, I foresee Teal’c and I having to beat up an awful lot of folks for picking on Daniel. Fortunately, I like beating up people who pick on my friends and I’m guessing T wouldn’t mind an occasional workout either. “So…”

“So?”

“Are you gonna talk or do I beat it out of you?”

“What?” He gives me the genuinely confused look that is less than genuine. “I…I talked, told you what happened. End of story.”

“Beginning of story.” I correct him. “I know it was hard, Daniel.” I soften my voice. “Talk to me.”

His eyes slide away from mine. “There’s nothing to talk about, Jack.”

“Well, hell, I guess we’ll just sit here all day and enjoy the weather and not talk about anything at all.”

“I guess we will.” He thinks he’s won but I have many more years honing this patience thing than him. I can wait him out.

It doesn’t take long.

“I’m okay, Jack, will you stop staring at me?” He huffs.

“Maybe I just like the way you look.”

He nearly strangles on his candy bar. “Are you…making a pass at me?”

I have to laugh. “Kid, you wouldn’t know a pass if someone hit you over the head with it.” I let him settle back down before I sneak in for the kill. “Carter said you had your mother’s eyes.”

Those eyes instantly widen in shock. And begin to fill with tears. He scrambles to his feet, intent on running. I anticipated that move and have my hand around one ankle, flipping him neatly back onto the blanket. He tries it again so I grab him from behind and hold his arms crossed in front of him, his back to my chest. 

“Daniel, its okay to be upset about this. What’s not okay is trying to bottle it up. They were your parents and you loved them and you shouldn’t have to relive what happened over and over.” I feel the breath catch and I tighten my arms. “Just let go, Daniel. Let it out.” This is where I am ruthless with him. He doesn’t like to be touched, being held is way beyond his comfort zone and I fully expect the human touch will break him. “Tell me, Daniel.”

“God, Jack,” he chokes out. “She was my mother and I looked right at her and she looked at me. I never expected to ever see her again. Ever. And I couldn’t save her...” He’s sobbing now. “I couldn’t do anything but stand there.”

“I know, it’s hard.” I move his glasses out of harm’s way and try to turn him but he resists me. Okay, I guess he thinks if I don’t actually see the tears, he can pretend he didn’t shed them. We sit like that for a very long time, until I’m sure my legs are never going to work again. The sobs finally stop and his breathing eases. I relax my arms and he pulls away from me, stumbling to his feet and into the house. 

I pick up his book and glasses and the remains of his candy bar and follow him in. I put on a pot of strong coffee and piddle around the kitchen waiting for him to leave the bathroom. Picking his glasses up, I frown at the smudges on the lenses and take them to the sink, clean them with hot soapy water and a clean kitchen towel.

He won’t meet my eyes when he slinks back in. I leave his now spotless glasses on the counter beside the coffee pot and head to the living room with my cup. I know just what he’ll do. He’ll fool around in the kitchen until he thinks it won’t look like he’s been crying, then he’ll come down here with his newly erected shield firmly in place. 

I am so onto him.


End file.
